ink. (haylor)

x. ink

a/n:

hey hey

i'll be the first to admit i've been kind of selfish with updating recently, and i have been trying to write this chapter for the entire week, but i've been a bit busy with homework and school things this week bc i just got back.

thank you for pestering me to update bc i can never say no to you guys and it motivates me. all the support for this story is amazing, thank you so much.

this is the chapter you guys begin to find out what the title had to do with the story also :)

depending on your response and time, there might be another update this weekend...

ily ily ily ily

-kay

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[Taylor's POV]

The following week flew by in a haze of newspaper gossip column articles and flurries of crazed paparazzi waiting outside the apartment building. Half of the time I went anywhere outside, with or without Harry, I would be bombarded with questions as a sea of lenses were pointed in my direction and my ears rang with the click of shutters.

In front of cameras as we walked down the street or in the park, we would act deliriously in love; hold hands and whispering things in each others' ears or even sneaking a kiss on the cheek.

We weren't overly affectionate in public though, for instance, we hadn't locked lips since that first time in his office. I didn't know if it was him, and he was uncomfortable with the prospect, or if he wanted me to initiate anything, or if it was the both of us, too afraid to overstep our boundaries.

As soon as we entered the apartment though, we became different people. We spoke seldom, and when we did, we regarded each other politely, if not coldly.

It seemed the days of easy conversation had disappeared into thin air. It was like someone had severed the connection between the two of us. After that night he'd confessed that he wanted to be a songwriter, something inside of him seemed to snap.

He became almost distant, and even the times we were both at home, it was the same as if I was alone, because he was usually holed up in his office, on the other side of the house, or with his laptop in his bedroom.

Since I'd met him, our relationship sort of felt like a surreal ride. It was fast and exhilarating and then came to a sudden stop.

I probably shouldn't even refer to it as a relationship. This was a business deal – a formality – something that bonded our two families before the merger of companies actually happened.

So after a week from hell, I'd been grateful to get away from the office early and finish off some things at home. After battling through the maze of paparazzi at the door, I almost stumbled into the lobby of my apartment building.

Baffled at the sheer volume of the people trying to take my picture, I wondered what they were doing outside my house in the late afternoon. I figured since Harry and I both arrived back home at around 6pm, they just showed up when we were about to get home – I didn't think they camped outside all day.

"It's getting crazier and crazier out there, isn't it?" Jimmy, the guy who had been working behind the desk since before I had moved in, remarked as I he saw me and stopped sorting through the papers on his desk.

I offered a tired smile at him and told him about how I was considering hiring a bodyguard soon and asked him about him own girlfriend who I had met a few times. Jimmy and I had become good friends over the past couple of years I'd been living in the building. He helped me with groceries sometimes and asked me about my day without fail.